


Dream

by takenbythewater



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 14:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1607672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takenbythewater/pseuds/takenbythewater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreams are worse, he's decided.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream

Sleep is good, restorative, adds years to your life and all that other bullshit. Not everybody wants a few more years. Enough is enough. All in all there are far more reasons not to sleep.

It doesn’t mean that wandering about the halls is any better, it just means it’s easier. There is infinitely more to hold on to than just breathing and  trying to find a painless position to rest when you can’t leave your desk until that pile of papers is gone. Length of stride, direction, who would wake up if he stepped too loudly. They were distractions and they helped somewhat, but always wore thin. After that it was back to dreaming, his mind chewing bits of his life and his long abandoned hopes and spitting them back into his face.

Even after all this time, Erwin wasn’t sure if it was the nightmares or the dreams that were worse. Nightmares were every day. Nightmares had been real and right in front of him since he was fifteen. At least he’d had that long, some had never gone a day without seeing hell. One in particular comes to mind, but he knows there are many more like the corporal.

Dreams are worse, he decides. They sweep in and you know that what you’re seeing is something you can never touch and instead of leaving relief at being safe in bed, all they leave is longing that cuts deeper than any blade he’s ever known.

He’s too old for entertaining notions of home and life without titans, or at least that’s what he tells himself whenever he hears trainees and graduates chatter about retirement and victory. Some want to work their way up through the ranks, some want to serve and be honored, some of them want to start families when they go home. When, they all say, but the truth is ‘if’. Dying young is a given. It comes with the wings, mismatched pair that they are.

Erwin turns down the opposite hall, not even looking twice at the closed door of his own quarters before doing so. It’s muscle memory, nothing more. Lying even to himself now, for shame. There is a crispness to the air in this wing as opposed to the usual stuffiness. Shallow, blueish light stretches toward him from the end of the hall. No matter how quiet he stays, he knows that he’s already been found out.

“A bit late for you to be wandering huh, old man?” Erwin stifles a rather  unbecoming snort. The years between them are fewer than Levi would like to think.

“ A bit late for scouting the wilderness, as well.”  The corporal is leaning heavily against the wall, elbows resting on  the windowsill. As anticipated he rolls his eyes. It’s not cold and reproachful as it is when directed at his subordinates and anyone who tries to speak to him before he has a cup of coffee in his hand. There’s a long-suffering fondness to it, to Levi himself in times like this. It puts Erwin in mind of a dream he’s had more than once, those moments when Nile, a few drinks poured  into him, tells Erwin to get home to that scrappy little husband of his

“Fuck you.” Levi yawns settling back on his heels the moment Erwin’s hands find his hips. He intends to take full advantage of the fact that, besides being built like a tree, the man is goddamn human furnace. The commander’s arms wind around his waist, hands sliding up to clasp over his stomach. He settles back into Erwin’s chest. The taller man has to stoop a bit, but it’s worth it to hear that contented hum when he noses right behind Levi’s ear.

“You can, if you’d like.”

“Fuck me, ‘m too tired.” Aren’t they all.

“So, using the bed for it’s intended purpose, then?” He takes the answering groan as a yes, turning Levi sideways into his chest before looping one arm under his legs  and lifting him.

“I’ve never had a manservant before.” That little shit practically purrs against the crook of Erwin’s neck.

“And you’ve yet to have one.”

“Whatever you say, Commander.”

He’s careful not to stomp or trip over his own feet or anything god forbid that would draw attention. If he’d ever seen his superior officers in such a state the damage would’ve been permanent. Going back to his own quarters carries too much of a risk, so Levi’s room it is. He nudges the door open with his toes.

Levi’s room is immaculate. Empty of personal effects, it looks like it’s never been lived in. That sends an ugly jolt through him, rife with the sound of breaking bones and  gnashing teeth. Levi reaches behind Erwin’s back to pull the door closed, locking it with the faintest traces of a smirk on his face.

“Carrying me over the threshold? I never thought you were one for all that traditional shit-” He lets out a huff of air as he is deposited onto the bed,  Erwin’s large form looming over him. The smaller man tilts his chin up to bare his throat. Erwin follows the motion and counters it, gently pressing his lips against Levi’s own.

“I wouldn’t call this traditional.” He crawls forward on the bed, laying to face the other man. Tactile as he is, Levi nearly burrows into him.

“If you wake me with your snoring, I’m going to smother you.”

“Duly noted.”

Rather than visions of blood and snapping wires, it is a child’s dream that often keeps him awake. Foolish and flowery as it may be, he keeps two rings in the pocket of his jacket.

For if times were different, or maybe just in case.

 

 


End file.
